When fates collide
by ArtsyTheo
Summary: Harry has finished the war and is left empty inside. Everyone he knew and loved was dead so he moved to America. As he learns more about his title as Master of Death, a certain pair of brothers show up in his new town claiming to be "top secret agents". What happens when they begrudgingly become a family? A really fucked up misfit family? (currently being edited - 6/27/19)
1. 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Supernatural series**

Harry stood, staring at the rubble before him. He did it, he defeated Voldemort. But then, why did he feel so empty? He looked at the millions of dead bodies around him and felt a cold chill down his back. "It's time to leave, Harry", he heard Death whisper to him. Turning to his only friend with tired, weary eyes, he nodded and grabbed Death's hand before disappearing without a trace.

Harry shuddered as he appeared in Gringotts; the goblins were busy with people trying to collect their money in a panic. "Mister Potter, right on time", Griphook smiled at him, or what he thought would be a smile. He nodded at the Goblin and followed him down a long winding corridor to his office.

Before the end of the war, he came to the bank to apologize for breaking in. After paying a (very hefty) fine, they forgave him and agreed to continue doing business with him as well as using him to improve their security to prevent future attacks. The relationship was tense, both sides ready for the other to go back on their word. The trust between goblin and man was made purely for business.

"Now, for the plans you wanted, we found houses in Japan, America and Germany. All are furnished and aren't too big, per your request", Griphook explained in a formal manner. "Is there a ministry in those countries?", Harry asked as he looked at the pictures of the houses. "Mr. Potter, every country has a ministry. America has the smallest of the three, however. Most witches there obtained there magic by making a deal with demons", he sneered at the thought of them but otherwise showed no emotion. "Are they dangerous?", Harry asked worriedly.

"I can assure you, their borrowed magic is no were near as powerful as a natural witch or wizard would be. They're on par with a strong squib", Griphook smiled viciously. "I'll go to America, then. Maybe I'll run into these witches, see what they're about", Harry nodded to himself before standing up from his seat. "Thank you for your service, Griphook. I will remain in contact with you and, should you ever need me, call for Kreacher", Harry smiled at Griphook as he took the portkey from him. "Of course, Mr. Potter", Griphook straightened himself and escorted Harry back to the front of Gringotts.

Harry smiled as he stepped into the old Black manor, hearing the tapestry open and the familiar sound of being called a half-blood and a filthy muggle-lover. 'Home, sweet home', he thought to himself, looking around the dank room. "Kreacher, come here for a moment!", he called out. Said elf popped to him with a grumble and bowed.

"Kreacher, I'll be leaving for America soon. It would be too suspicious to bring you with me but I'm not cruel enough to cut you from my magic entirely", Harry explained to the elf. Kreacher stared at him with a calculating look in his bulging eyes. "Your job while I'm away is to restore the manor to its former glory. I want dark artifacts safely put away and the house to be thoroughly cleaned. You can do what you wish with the artifacts, you're sure to know them better than me. I'm trusting you with this, Kreacher. Don't let me down", he ordered. "I won't, Master Harry", Kreacher answered.

Harry sighed and walked up the creaky stairs to his now nearly empty room. The plans were all set in place, all he had to do was act. He'd be leaving tomorrow morning, the only trace being his fortune in Gringotts until it was transferred to the American branch. The wizarding world would no longer know everything their Golden Boy was up to. 'And that's just fine with me', Harry smiles. There was a loud crash downstairs. 'Hopefully my new home is less hectic', he thought with a frown.

 **(AN: I started this fic years ago and forgot about it. I logged back in to see this along with a ton of requests for updates so I decided to read back through this and improve it! There were a ton of mistakes in the older version so I'm hoping you guys appreciate this newer edited version more!)**


	2. 2

*set four years later*

Harry Potter, or Wren Lupin now I suppose, settled into a quaint little town in America quite easily. His former childhood years inspired him to create a small cafe, "Sanctity". Death laughed at him when he named it, cackling at the sign every time they saw it.

Wren himself lived above the cafe, in a small apartment. He lived alone, as far as his neighbors knew. Death was a common visitor, dropping in unannounced and stealing pastries. Perhaps to anyone else, having Death as a friend would be weird but Wren isn't just anyone.

Before defeating Voldemort, he had met Death. It started when he was on the run with Ron and Herminione. They didn't know it then, of course. It was a closely kept secret. Death mentoring their soon-to-be master. Death was all too eager to start piling their own work onto poor Wren as soon as the war was over. And really, Wren should've expected it. Why else would Death be eager to have a teenage boy as a 'Master'.

Wren seemed to dance around the kitchen in his small cafe. Few customers visited but the ones that did, made it a regular hangout. It was very homey with a small furnace and couches instead of the uncomfortable seats you usually find in cafes. There were a scattering of mismatched tables on the far side of the cafe, across from the couches. There was always a low hum of chatter so people were free to talk about what they needed in privacy but weren't bombarded with loud noise. Scents of chocolate and apple were in the air, seemingly never leaving.

Overall, it seemed like the perfect place to come and relax without feeling pressured to socialize. Everyone minded their own business unless, of course, if it came to Wren. Wren was a loved friend to everyone in the neighborhood. He volunteered every saturday, he treats everyone with kindness and he's always there when there is an emergency.

"Just last week-" a woman whispered to her husband before taking a sip of her drink "- he helped the high school with funding after their computers broke! He just gave them so much money as if it was nothing!" "Hopefully you're not gossiping about me again, Mrs. T", Wren smiled at the old woman before refilling her cup. "Honestly, Wren, I told you to call me Sherry! I don't think I'm gossiping if I'm telling the truth. You're a very kind and giving man", she giggled and grabbed her cup.

"Mrs. T, you flatter me", he grinned when she smacked his arm. "Call me Sherry!", she yelled after him. Wren laughed as he put another pie in the oven, feeling a warm breeze caress his cheek. "A storm is coming, dear. You'll find that this cafe isn't enough for you anymore", Death whispered in his ear. "I feel it, my magic has been going haywire the past few days. Should I start saying my good-byes?", Wren responded, turning from the hooded creature.

"Wait for them, dear. They'll help you", it said. "They?", Wren turned back around and saw that he was alone. 'Cryptic entities with their cryptic messages and confusing speech', he sighed, walking out of the kitchen and smiling at the new customers. "What can I do for you?".


	3. 3

"Can we get some seats near the back? We're uh- trying to do a business meeting", a tall man with shoulder length hair explained to Wren. He nodded and guided them to a more secluded spot. "Just tell me when you're ready to order!", he smiled at them and walked back to the kitchen.

He felt familiar arms wrap around him and hummed. "That was a bit rude, Death", he pouted at the entity. "Can you ever forgive me", they replied sarcastically. "So, do you want to know who that group of men are?", they whispered in his ear, sitting on the counter. Wren turned to him and leaned against the stove.

"Not particularly interested but I'm sure you'll tell me", he chuckled and turned back to his work. "Well, they just so happen to be the Winchester's and their pet angel", they drawled. Wren paused before continuing his work. "What does that have to do with me?", Wren said, taking a pie out of the oven. "Perhaps you'd be more interested if you knew how intertwined your fates are..", Death trailed off when they heard someone walking to the kitchen. "Well, that's just peachy", Wren muttered before turning to a man with shorter hair.

"Ready to order?", Wren smiled at him and he nodded. "We'll get an apple pie and three hot cocoas", he said. Wren nodded at him,"I'll have that finished in a few minutes!" He smiled and walked back to his table. Wren quietly made three hot cocoas and put them and the fresh pie onto a tray, bringing them out to the group's table.

"Here you go! Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you", he smiled at them. "Wait, how much does this cost? It didn't say on your menu", the man with the longer hair asked. "This is a non-profit cafe, you pay what you believe the food is worth", Wren explained. "Don't you guys lose money?", the shorter of the brothers pointed out. "Well, I'm the only worker here and if I had worries about money, I'm sure I could handle them myself", he said. "I've got to get back to my kitchen, have fun with your business meeting, gentlemen", Wren walked back to the kitchen, grinning at Death peeking from the corner at the group.

Castiel's pov.

The man seemed very familiar, almost like an old friend. His aura was warm, inviting, but dangerous. "Cas, you okay? Is something wrong?", Dean whispered to me. "No, I was just thinking of the chef", I assured him. He nodded, turning back to his pie. It was a surprise every time the Winchester's asked how I felt. A vast difference from following blind orders from Heaven.

It made me feel like part of a family. I decided to keep that to myself. The last time I told him how he made me feel, I felt very 'awkward'. I don't want that to happen again. I silently drank the hot cocoa and analyzed the information for our new case. It was a haunting but the body was cremated. We'll have to wait until tonight to break into the woman's house and look for something of her lover's.

I watched as the chef walked around and greeted everyone that walked into the cafe. He was important, a part of the ineffable plan, though I'm not sure how. I looked back at Sam and Dean. Sam was reading and Dean looked as if he was inhaling his pie. I couldn't help the small smile it brought to my face. They remind me so much of my brothers before the war started.


	4. 4

**I'm so sorry it took me this long to update! The story** _ **isn't**_ **abandoned, I just got busy with school. I recently graduated high school and I'm in my first year of college! Thank you for your patience. My goal is to make the chapters much longer and better formatted.**

Wren's pov.

'This is absolutely not what I had planned tonight', I watched as the shorter of the brothers- Dean, if I remember correctly- rushed into the house of the malevolent spirit. Sam was panicking because poor Mrs. T was dead and I was very awkwardly caught in the middle of it. How did this happen, you may ask? Well, it all started back at the diner.

~flashback~

"Those are some interesting young men, aye Wren?", Mrs. T nudged me and I raised an eyebrow at her. "I haven't the faintest idea what you may be hinting at. Would you like cream with your coffee?", I say as I turn back to the coffee maker. Coffee, a necessary evil when it comes to running a cafe. "You know how I take my coffee, don't act naive. I was thinking you could work your magic and charm one of those nice young men into a date", she wiggled her eyebrows at me. The woman next to her choked on her tea and the men in question looked up at the commotion.

"Mrs. T, you will be the death of me. Just because I'm a gay man doesn't mean I'll throw myself at any attractive guy I meet", I roll my eyes and pass her her coffee. "But you admit you think they're attractive!", she grins and gingerly picks up her coffee. "Well, I have eyes. I can't deny the obvious. Could you, perhaps, keep your voice down before they hear you?", I say. She waves her hand non-committedly as she sips her coffee. "Take a chance, live a little! You're still a young man, you need a little excitement in your life! I've got to dash, I have a meeting with a few of the soccer moms from the middle school and you know how they love their gossip", she slaps money down onto the counter and leaves with a wink.

'Meddling women with their gossip and coffee', I snark to myself as I scrub a stubborn spot on the bar. "Excuse me, sorry, if this is a non-profit cafe, do you take donations?", Sam asks. I look up at his hopeful face and oh goodness I can't say no to puppy eyes. I give him my most convincing smile and nod,"Of course! If you'd like to donate, just leave your money on the bar and I'll collect it!". I don't usually take donations but I could probably use the money to spend on the community. Again. Honestly, my "saving people" thing never really went away.

"Sammy, I'll be outside. Let me know when your done flirting with the chef", Dean says gruffly, walking with the angel to a very attractive looking car. I'd love to get my hands on that thing. The car, not Dean, obviously. "Ah, sorry about him", Sam rubs his neck sheepishly. "No worries, I hope you've enjoyed your stay and have a wonderful day, Sam!", I say, gathering up Mrs. T's money and putting it under the counter. "Come back any time!", I yell out as he leaves.

I walk back into the kitchen to see Death staring back at me expectantly. "They seem like a nice bunch", I comment. "'A nice bunch', are you kidding me? They're so infuriating. They should've been dead a long time ago but they're _sooo lucky_ ", they sneer. "You sound like a little kid that got his toys taken away", I say, dodging the hand they tried to smack me with. "Oh, shut up!", they whisper-yell.

"Hey, I think one of your little boyfriends came back to say hi", they say, looking at the bar suggestively. "They aren't my boyfriends and would never be. You know how I feel about dating", I say before walking out of the kitchen back into the main cafe area. To my surprise, it wasn't one of the Winchester's waiting for me but their angel.

"Ah, hi. Dean said I should 'be a man' and ask you for your number. I'm not sure what that means but if you wouldn't mind sharing it with me, I'd appreciate it very much", he smiles. He honestly looks like a puppy. "Well, maybe if you'd give me your name first, I'd give you my phone number", I lean over the counter and stare him down. "I'm Castiel", he says. "Castiel, unique name. I'm Wren and here's my number. Call me any time", I wink.

I hear him walk out telling Dean he doesn't have a phone and almost giggle. Honestly, how do people not notice he isn't human, he's so out of touch. 'People ignore what the don't want to see', I remind myself, picking up the money Sam left.

~flashback end~

Castiel ended up calling me, but only because they were about to die. Mrs. T had the misfortune of being caught up in the situation and dying at the hands of the spirit. Sam was still freaking out, and Dean was taunting the spirit. I roll my eyes and accio the necklace her lover had kept after she died, making sure no one else had seen, tossing it into the fire and watching the spirit die seconds before charging at Dean and probably killing him.

"How did you do that?", Castiel looked at me with wide eyes. Sam looked up as Dean walked out of the house, an even more confused look on his face.

Well, shit.


End file.
